"Have your own way, of course," said Haldane, laughing: "it's a little odd, though, that your spite against yourself should mean so much practical kindness to me."
"Hold on!" cried his host, as Haldane was about to attack the viands; "ain't you goin' to say grace?"
"Well," said the young man, somewhat embarrassed, "I would rather you would say it for me."
"I might as well eat your dinner for you."
"Mr. Growther, you are an unusually honest man, and I think a kind one; so I am not going to act out any lies before you. Although your dinner is the best one I have seen for many a long day, or am likely to see, yet, to tell you the truth, I could swear over it easier than I could pray over it."
"A-a-h! that's the right spirit; that's the way I ought to feel. Now you see what a mean hypocrite I am. I'm no Christian—far from it—and yet I always have a sneakin' wish to say grace over my victuals. As if it would do anybody any good! If I'd jest swear over 'em, as you say, then I would be consistent."
"Are you in earnest in all this strange talk?"
"Yes, I am; I hate myself."
"Why?"
"Because I know all about myself. A-a-h!"